Forbidden ✔

CHAPTER SIX.

(Lola's Pov)

A bile grew in my throat as I shakily made my way over towards the room. Behind one single, brown colored, wooden door, would be the woman who meant the world to me. The woman who, from childhood, continued to inspire me to become a good person. The person I yelled out to if I were to injure myself. The same woman who was always there to care for me, putting my happiness above hers.

My mother.

My sick mother.

Five years ago, she was diagnosed with cancer. A rare, uncommon cancer which was so fatal. It started off with her brain, but somehow, it made her entire body go limp. Now, all she did was lay in bed, unable to move.

Although, it didn't start of like that. As time went buy, it grew worse. Pain drugged her entire body, taking over it till she was paralyzed and unable to move. Only able to use her hands and barely lift her arms. 

And for nearly two years, she had been locked inside a single room. A nurse, my Papa had specially hired to take care of her, was her only company. I was permitted from frequently stopping by to check up on her. Apparently, constantly worrying about my sick mother would do me no good, so Papa banned me from visiting her daily.

Upset, furious, angered, irradiated - I felt all of those emotions the day he banned me from entering her room on a daily basis. However, he was my father. I wouldn't - couldn't, show any signs of disrespect. Instead, I complied with his deal, only being able to see the woman who had given me birth every Saturday. The day the nurse wasn't at home. 

Holding my head up high, despite all the constant negative thoughts hammering my mind, I strode towards the room where she was being looked after. A tugging feeling of unfairness and pain emitted at the edge of my heart. I sharply inhaled, extending a hand out to turn the door open. 

"Pull yourself together, Lola." I whispered to myself, hoping it'd give me boost of confidence I much needed. Swallowing, I let my hand limply turn the door open. My heart dropped the second the door no longer shielded my view and allowed me to see what was hidden behind it.

Weak, almost lifeless, my mother lay on the twin-sized bed. The smell of sick, mixed with lemon anti-bacterial spray, reminded me of how a hospital would smell. It didn't feel welcoming at all. Before her being diagnosed with this fatal disease, she would smell of roses and pretty flowers. 

A heavy breath left my lips and I slowly let my eyes graze over the small room my mother now lived her everyday life in. I was buying myself some time, trying my hardest to avoid the sight of my mother. It's not that I didn't want to look at her - it was simply because I wasn't strong enough.

"Lola," I heard her weakly, lowly, whisper. It was so quiet, I barely heard it. My eyes slowly landed on the inevitable sight before me. A quivering smile was playing on her lips, her blue eyes squinted, looking drained. My heart churned.

"Mama," I whispered, taking small steps towards the bed. I swallowed sharply, reaching out for her hand. It looked as if she pulled all her strength into the smile she pushed onto her chapped lips. I once remembered them being painted with bright colors, pooling out her features.

"Come, sit." She said with slight paused in her words. Nodding, I pulled a chair up beside her bed, not hesitating as I held her hand in mine. Tears pricked my eyes, but I wouldn't let them flow out.

I had to be strong for her.

"You look beautiful, Bambina." She slowly said. I flashed a small smile at her compliment.

"Thank you, Mama. How are you?" I softly asked her. Her eyes trailed towards the ceiling above us, a sight she must have been really familiar with.